


Simple Instructions for the Proper Use of Handcuffs

by carryokee



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryokee/pseuds/carryokee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve can be a passive aggressive bastard sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Instructions for the Proper Use of Handcuffs

**Author's Note:**

> My first H50 fic, omg! I tried to not write it but the idea just wouldn't let me go. So...sorry. Also, the handcuff instructions are completely made up.

**1\. Place the subject in a position of least resistance. This may require the use of physical restraint and/or subdual.**

If one were to enter Danny’s suite at that particular moment, he or she could not be blamed for assuming an act of foul play had occurred. There were overturned chairs and toppled glasses scattered across the plush rug, and the gauzy white curtains billowed lazily in the breeze in front of the set of French doors standing ominously open to the gorgeous view below. To put it bluntly, it looked like there’d been quite a struggle. To the average connoisseur of television cop shows, this was where they’d cue the opening credits and once they came back from commercial, the CSIs would already be on scene, taking pictures and dusting the room for prints.

But looks can be deceiving. For one thing, the DO NOT DISTURB sign embossed in gold lettering and hanging from the doorknob from a length of gold ribbon ensured that no one would be entering Danny’s suite any time soon. And secondly, anyone who may have ignored the sign and entered Danny’s suite anyway would find, upon closer inspection, the twisted length of a black leather belt, the haphazard trail of one and half pairs of men’s dress shoes (different sizes) leading roughly towards the master bedroom, and the cuff of a crisp white dress shirt peeking out through the crack in the partially open bedroom door.

And if one were to open the door further and look inside, well. Let’s just say that a definite act of play was in the midst of occurring, though characterizing it as “foul” was most definitely in the eye of the beholder.

Most definitely, indeed.

+++

“Jesus Christ,” Danny muttered, the only words he could seem to manage between intermittent misfirings of his synapses. Besides the quick, steady thumping of his heart, the only other thing he noticed was that the room was noticeably much darker than when they entered it. How much time had passed he couldn’t nearly begin to guess with any sort of accuracy, but all past data combined with Danny’s first-hand knowledge of Steve’s capacity for rigorous aerobic exercise, would suggest a time elapse of at least a couple hours. Probably more. All past data also suggested that this was only the intermission.

“God help me.”

The bed shifted and suddenly there was Steve, hovering over him like a…like a…hovering thing, grinning like the lunatic he was. “You okay there, Danno? Sounds like you were praying.” The man was everywhere at once, just like he’d been since the day Danny met him. Powerful and mysterious, like that stuff scientists said would eventually blow the universe apart.

“Dark energy,” Danny said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “That’s what you are.”

One of Steve’s eyebrows lifted up in an almost perfect impersonation of the evil professor on SpongeBob SquarePants. “Been watching the History Channel again?”

Danny smiled. “Discovery, actually.” He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but Steve pushed him back down with a hand to his chest.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, and proceeded to press Danny into the ridiculously soft mattress with his ridiculously hard body.

Danny knew that voice: the sex one. It was the one Steve had used on him less than an hour into Chin and Malia’s reception when he’d cornered Danny by the ukulele quartet and whispered all the things he planned to do to him at the earliest possible opportunity. Which wasn’t at all fair since, as the best man, Steve had to stay until the very end to see the newlyweds off on their honeymoon. To Iceland.

“Iceland.” It sounded even more insane when he said it out loud. Steve’s hands were under Danny’s thighs, pushing them up, and Danny just went along, letting Steve manipulate his limbs any way he wanted. There was a time to fight – Danny cringed inwardly when he thought of what kind of mess there was in the living room – and there was a time to give in, like now. He’d chew ground glass before he’d ever admit it out loud, but he loved to give in to Steve. He preferred it that way. He only ever fought back when Steve needed it, when he was too worked up to go slow.

Danny threaded his fingers in Steve’s hair. “Who the hell goes to Iceland for their honeymoon, anyway?”

Steve lifted his head, pressing his lips to Danny’s ear, licking the words into it. “Where were they supposed to go, Hawaii?” Danny felt Steve’s lips curl into a smile before they dipped lower again, the edges of his teeth teasing Danny’s earlobe.

Danny kneed him in the ribs with his left knee. “Funny, babe. Don’t quit your day job.” He pushed out a breath when Steve grazed one of his nipples, but as he closed his fingers in Steve’s sweaty hair again he said, “Seriously, though. Iceland? I mean, _Ice_ land. The name says it all. What’s there to do besides huddle for warmth and pray you don’t fall into a crevasse?”

Steve lifted his head. The point of his chin nearly rested on Danny’s belly and each of his fingertips was a point of fire on Danny’s skin. His face was a collection of light and shadow in the growing dusk, but Danny knew lust when he saw it. And annoyance. They were strangely similar expressions when painted across Steve’s features. “Danny.”

The corners of Danny’s mouth twitched. “Steven.”

“Shut up.”

Danny arched his hips, the tip of his growing erection just pressing against Steve’s belly. “Make me.” It was cliché, sure, but extremely effective, if the narrowing of Steve’s eyes and the pressure of his fingertips against Danny’s ribs were any indication.

Then Steve grinned, sharp and predatory, and Danny’s mouth went dry. Pure, unadulterated, 100% pharmaceutical grade lust suddenly flooded his veins. And except for the handful of functioning brain cells flashing the words _yes_ and _now_ across his frontal lobe in bright blue neon, he was otherwise rendered completely stupid.

Which was why Danny didn’t notice the danger until it was already too late.

 **2\. Cuff the subject’s wrists one at a time, being sure not to cause injury. The cuffs should fit snugly but be secure enough to keep the subject restrained.**

It was the sound of the second cuff closing around his right wrist that finally caught Danny’s attention. He’d somehow missed the first cuff entirely, which didn’t say much for his ability to stay aware of his surroundings at all times. Goddamn Steve and his fucking stealthy ninja skills. And his fucking clever tongue. And his fucking magic hands that always turned Danny into an idiot.

“Magic hands?”

So, okay. Add “may cause normally rational people to mutter stupid things out loud” to the long list of possible side effects of Sex With Steve McGarrett. Compared to instant incoherence, spontaneous bouts of stupidity, and mind-blowing orgasms in inappropriate places, it was fairly mild.

Danny glared up at him. The man was smiling, actually smiling, like the man who killed the alligator that devoured the cat that ate the canary. Or more accurately, he was grinning like the man’s wife who would soon be getting a brand new pair of alligator skin boots.

“Shut up, Steven. I mean it. Don’t fucking talk to me right now.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or ever again, actually.” He squirmed beneath Steve’s weight. “And get off.”

There was that fucking grin again as Steve ground against him, the thick line of his hard-on slotting into the crease of Danny’s groin. “That’s the idea, Danno.”

Oh, how Danny detested his dick at this precise moment, since it was totally ignoring his self-righteous and justifiable anger and skipping right to following Danny’s command of its own accord. The prick.

“Don’t call me that,” Danny gritted out between his teeth. He tugged on the handcuffs because that was what you did, wasn’t it? You know it won’t work but you do it anyway because there was nothing else to do.

Steve sat up then, his weight on Danny’s legs, and curled his long fingers around Danny’s hips, the pads of his thumbs pressing into the hollows there. He assessed Danny’s face in the near darkness.

“You’re not really mad,” he said after a minute.

“The hell I’m not,” Danny said heatedly, although goddamn it if Steve wasn’t becoming more right by the second, the bastard. There were, admittedly, worse places Danny could be right now, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it without at least a show of resistance. “This is kidnapping. Torture. I’ll bet if I called Lori right now, she could list a half dozen other international laws this is breaking.”

“Bullshit, Danny. You love it.” As if to prove his point, Steve wrapped one warm hand around Danny’s erection and gave it a little squeeze. Then he smiled. “I have firm evidence in hand to support my theory.” He swiped his thumb across the slick head of Danny’s dick with deliberate slowness.

Danny groaned and pushed his hips up, his eyes falling closed as his cock slid through the circle of Steve’s fist. He repeated the action. Once. Twice. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he saw Steve looking back at him, his Smug Fucking Bastard face firmly in place. “Not a fucking word, Steven,” Danny said when Steve opened his mouth. He thrust up into Steve’s fist again and smirked. “I’m sure you can find something better to do with that mouth of yours.”

Steve grinned and dragged the nails of his other hand slowly along the underside of Danny’s thigh, making Danny’s hips jerk erratically and his breath stutter. Then he leaned down and took Danny up on his challenge.

 **3\. Remember, handcuffs are solely tools of restraint, not punishment. They should never be used as a means of inflicting punitive consequences.**

Steve removed the cuffs as Danny was still coming down, so he was only vaguely aware of the gentle press of Steve’s lips to what would no doubt be mild bruises around his wrists in the morning. With his hands finally free, he instinctively reached for Steve and pulled him close, burying his nose in the side of Steve’s neck. He always loved this part, the after, when they were both sleepy and sated and Steve’s walls were crumbled enough for Danny to scale. Steve kissed his temple and ran his fingers lightly through Danny’s hair. It was now completely dark outside and the noise of daytime tourists had dissipated. The sound of the waves seemed closer now, more immediate.

“High tide,” Danny said softly.

Steve’s fingers stopped for a beat, then started again. The silence was heavy with words unsaid.

Danny tilted his head back to look at Steve and found him looking back. The intensity of Steve’s gaze shone through the moonlight.

“What?” Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing, Danny. Just…” He paused, smiling a little. “I’m glad you know it’s high tide.”

Danny held Steve’s eyes a moment longer, then rolled his eyes. “O-kay. You’re glad, I’m glad. It’s a glad, glad, glad, glad world.” He kissed Steve, letting it linger a moment, then pushed against Steve’s shoulder until he rolled flat onto his back. “Now go to sleep, would you? Some of us have to work in the morning. My boss is a real task master and if I’m even one second late, he never lets me hear the end of it.”

Steve smiled. “Sounds like a real jerk.”

Danny snorted. “You have no idea.” He prodded Steve like a pillow until he was positioned the way Danny liked, inched closer until their bodies were flush, and pulled the sheet over them both before settling in. He felt Steve’s arm curve around him as he closed his eyes.

“I might be a little late for work tomorrow.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m sure your boss will find a way to punish you.”

Danny scratched his nails along Steve’s side, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his skin at the touch. He pressed a small kiss to Steve’s jaw and smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Goodnight, Daniel.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

+++

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve said what couldn’t have been more than five minutes later as Danny was just about to topple over the edge into some much-needed quality REM sleep. “The next time you want to handcuff yourself to someone other than me…don’t.”

Danny’s eyes flew open.


End file.
